P.W.’s Story: I should have known he was a predator

I was a freshman in college at a big party school. Everyone around me was rich and beautiful, and they seemed so grown up. On my second day of school I threw all of my clothes in a box and maxed out my credit card in an attempt to look like I fit in. I am sure I looked like I was trying too hard and the trained eye could have spotted my insecurity from across the room.

I met him front of the dorms in his fancy Audi, he looked like one of those male models from the pages of Vogue magazine and he smoked European cigarettes. He caught my friends and me looking his way, and he smiled and motioned for me to come talk to him. We exchanged phone numbers and made plans to hang out later.

I should have known he was a predator, but I was too young and naive to see it.

I had just taken the bait and he knew it. When I showed up at his apartment later I was nervous. The little voice in the back of my head nagged at me. You don’t know this guy, your friends don’t know where you are, and this is a bad idea. Before I had a chance to change my mind the door opened and I was engulfed by his good looks and charming smile. I think he sensed my inexperience as I stood there awkwardly in the doorway. He suggested that we watch a movie, have a few drinks, and get to know one another. Halfway through my third drink, he was already handing me number four.

The next thing I knew he was on top of me, kissing and groping in an aggressive way that kind of scared me. I kissed back as I attempted to remove his hand from underneath my skirt. “Don’t act like you don’t like it,” he kept saying as he continued undeterred.

I asked him to stop, but that just seemed to make him try harder, so I closed my eyes and silently prayed he would stop. He did not stop. He unzipped his pants and grabbed my hand, laughing as he tried to force me to touch him.

I wanted to cry, but I didn’t. I went along with it. He put his hands on my head and neck as he attempted to force me to give him oral sex. I finally relented and went along with it. When he started telling me all the things he wanted to do to me I finally cracked and started sobbing.I told him I didn’t want to do this, and that I don’t sleep with guys that I just met.

He laughed in my face and called me an immature little slut as I told him I wanted to leave. He told me it was my fault, that I had led him on, and that I was going to finish what I started. He said girls that lead guys on are asking for it.

As he tried to push me down on to the couch again I started to raise my voice, he didn’t want me to wake up his neighbors. I raised my voice louder, demanding that he let me leave. Finally he gave in, but his face was contorted and angry as he threw my purse at me and told me to get the fuck out. He continued to slut shame me as he touched himself while I put my shoes on and gathered my things. I stumbled down the hallway away from his apartment as quickly as I could. I was afraid he might change his mind and come after me

You should have known better.

This is your own fault.

Use some common sense next time.

What did you think would happen?

Just deal with it, you put yourself in that position.

These were the words that echoed in my head as I drove away. My heart pounded and I struggled to focus on the road as it became apparent that I was way too drunk to be driving. One. Two. Three. Four. I counted each stoplight as I made my way back to the dorms. As I parked the car I flung open my door and vomited in the parking lot. A group of guys walking by pointed and laughed, taunting me as they walked away.

I curled up in a little ball, sobbing uncontrollably in the backseat of my car, as I prepared myself for the walk of shame that stood between me and the safety of my room. I decided right then and there that I would just pretend like this didn’t happen. A few months later I saw him trolling the parking lot. I had to look away.

I was not afraid of him, but I couldn’t think about the next girl that he would victimize.

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